All things being in readiness, the bugles sounded the command to charge, when away dashed the gallant soldiers, eager for the affray, and each trying to be foremost in the fight.  As they came bounding over the knoll before spoken of, the Indians began to see the delusion under which they had been laboring, and at once turned to fly, but not in time to escape, for the soldiers were soon among them and with their revolvers and small arms were fast thinning their ranks and sending many a brave to his final home.  A running fight ensued, which was continued up the valley for about eight miles, when a majority of the Indians gained the mountains and made good their escape.  The chase was a splendid affair to behold, and many feats of horsemanship were performed that would be difficult to excel.  Among the foremost in this skirmish was, as the reader might readily imagine, Kit Carson.  The pursuit was continued far into the mountains and was only given over when night came on.  The soldiers then retired to their reserve-guard, who had established a camp on a small stream which runs through the centre of the pass, where their pack animals and stores could be easily guarded.  During this exciting fight, several of the soldiers were slightly wounded.  With this exception, the command came out of the skirmish unharmed.  On the side of the Indians, affairs in this respect were quite different.  Their blood had well sprinkled the battle-ground, and several of their swarthy forms were stretched out at full length, sleeping that sleep that knows no wakening, except it be at the final judgment day.  Had it not been that most of the Indians, as is usually the case with them when in action, were tied on their horses, this number would have been augmented.  The bloody trails that were afterwards found in the mountains, went to prove that many of the wounds given to the escaped Indians were mortal, and, while their horses were carrying them from the danger, they themselves were sinking from furious hemorrhage.  Early in the pursuit, a fine warrior was thrown from his horse.  As he had been crippled by a ball, he could not recover himself and make off.  For some time he lay alone and neglected, but when the rear guard came along they noticed that he was playing a game by pretending to be dead; but he had closed his eyes too firmly for a man in that condition, and this fact attracted the notice of the passers-by.  A Mexican raised his rifle and fired at the brave; but the bullet only served to cause another flesh wound.  This so irritated the would-be dead, savage, that, seizing his lance which lay by his side, he attempted to reach and kill his adversary with it; but, others coming up, he was soon dispatched.